


they are a family

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: How Do I Tag, based off emuyh's hq!! timeskip, i love how "how do i tag"is a real tag lol, i love these fucking dorks too much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 02:35:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5188916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kageyama takes care of his friends, and his friends take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	they are a family

**Author's Note:**

> this whole thing is based off [emuyh's](http://emuyh-art.tumblr.com/) [hq!! timeskip](http://emuyh-art.tumblr.com/tagged/hq%20timeskip) and based off [these](http://emuyh-art.tumblr.com/post/132979380607/hhh-okay-nebeoland-sent-me-fanmail-with-a-hq) headcanons  
> i threw in a couple of my own headcanons too btw  
> enjoy.

Kageyama could tell. He has learned to look for these signs- tense shoulders, straight back, hands clenched together. Kageyama could literally see the weight on Yamaguchi’s broad shoulders, pushing him down. He could tell that the captain was having a rough day, from the way he clutched the clipboard, knuckles white. Kageyama would gently take Yamaguchi’s head and lay it on his shoulder, Yamaguchi leaning into him, all soft breaths and quiet sighs. Kageyama would massage circles in the captain’s back, fingers running through his hair until Yamaguchi lightly punched him in the stomach. It was a nice punch, one that meant _thanks_ and not _I hate you_.

\--

Kageyama could tell. He could tell by the way he spoke, the way he tapped his foot, the way he always ran his hands through his blonde hair as if he wanted to rip it out. Tsukishima was never an easy one to read, but over the years, Kageyama knew when Tsukki is feeling stressed or just plain pissed. He would talk a little less, snap at people a little more, crack his knuckles as if he wanted to break them. The way he squeezed the volleyballs as if he wanted to smash it and maybe chuck them at the wall five million times. So during break, Kageyama would walkup to Tsukishima, who usually sat on the ground, and sit down with him, backs and heads touching. Tsukki would lean against the vice-captain and said captain let him, no words exchanged, no questions asked, just the silence and the two of them.

\--

Kageyama could tell. He could tell in the way Hinata slammed his sets, the sound resonating throughout the gym, the ball hitting the other side of the court was a loud thud, the way Hinata hit the ball so hard his hands would sting and redden and he would press a cold water bottle to his hands to numb the sting. The way he would ask for more and more tosses, the way his face scrunched up when he didn’t do something quite right. After practice, he would let Hinata punch him, he would let Hinata sob into his chest, he would let Hinata scream through thick tears at him. Slowly the punches became weaker, the cries quieter, the screams gone, leaving Hinata with a sore throat and red eyes and Kageyama with a wet shirt and a dull pain in his chest and stomach. The punches and hits become _I’m better now asshole_ and _thank you_ instead of _I hate myself and why can’t I just do this right?!_.

\--

Kageyama became so good at reading other people that he didn’t realize or forgot that the others became good at reading him too.

\--

Hinata could tell. He wasn’t emotion reader, but he has hung out enough with Kageyama to see when he he was angry and disappointed in himself. He could tell when Kageyama’s sets were slightly off, when he didn’t call him dumbass, when his slurped his milk angrily and when he crushed the milk box. Hinata could tell when Kageyama stayed little too long in the gym, taking after Tooru and trying to hide how tired he was and how tired his arms were. Hinata would find Kageyama in the gym, well after practice, improving his serves and sets. Hinata would call out to him, and together they would sit, backs to the wall, slurping milk. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they didn’t, they just enjoyed each other’s company, sipping milk as the sun went down, and they sky was awash with pastel pinks and lavenders, as if an artist had taken his brush and painted the sky with long and messy strokes.

\--

Tsukishima could tell. He was probably the best reader out of all of them and could read anyone like a book. And Kageyama was just so _obvious_. Tsukki could tell in the way Kageyama dug his fingernails into his palms, the way he stomped onto the court, the way he spoke to the first and second years. Tsukki would go up to Kageyama, make him lay down on the grass outside or on a bench in the gym, and put his headphones on him, putting on a peaceful playlist and lightly shutting his eyes. All the first years would stare as Tsukki did this, since he wasn’t known for being this kind. The second years were used to this, they knew how tight the third years were.

\--

Yamaguchi could tell. He could see when his vice-captain wasn’t having the best day. He could see it in the way he practiced, the way his would slam his water bottle onto the bench when he was down with it, the way he his eyebrows would furrow. After practice, Yamaguchi would beckon Kageyama and together they would walk around the field, sometimes jogging because Yamaguchi knew that Kageyama liked to jog to relieve stress.

\--

The third years were very close, they knew how to cheer one another up, they knew how one another was feeling, they knew when one another was stressed and tense, they just _knew_.

“What are they doing?” A first year had asked one practice, when all the third years were stressed because the Spring Tournament was coming up. Kageyama, Hinata, Tsukki, and Yamaguchi were all huddled together, Hinata’s face buried in Kageyama’s shirt, Yamaguchi leaning into Kageyama, Tsukki sitting back to back to Kageyama, and Kageyama with Tsukishima’s headphones on, sipping milk. “They’re comforting each other." A second year had answered.

“They’re like a family.” A first year had whispered as he watched them.

“Don’t you get it? They _are_ a family.”

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://qiyoan.tumblr.com)


End file.
